Lines of Communication
by JamiW
Summary: Sequel to my one-shot "Hope", set shortly thereafter. You don't need to read that one to get this one, but it helps.


**Peter POV **

* * *

I stretched out on the bed and stared into the darkness.

There's not a chance in hell I'm going to sleep anytime soon.

Not after what happened.

"_I never stopped loving you, either,_" Alicia said just before she left. "_I was mad as hell at you for a while. And hurt…very hurt. But I've always loved you."_

_"So there's hope,"_ I asked her, trying hard to sound casual even though a negative response would be devastating.

_"I think so." _

That's what she said.

It's not a definitive _yes,_ but it's so much better than _no_.

And as much as I've thought about getting her back, I never honestly believed it would happen.

_Of course, I never thought she'd show up on my doorstep at midnight wanting sex, either._

I don't know what prompted it, but I wish I did so that I could make sure it happens again.

I sighed heavily as I folded my arms beneath my head.

_And I **really** wish she were still here with me._

I closed my eyes and replayed the night's events, how her hand on my chest was like an electrical current and how she kissed me so eagerly and passionately…I can still smell her perfume and taste her lips and feel the exquisite heat of her as I pushed into her, a feeling I thought I might never experience again and yet now that I have, it's not enough.

I want more.

And I don't just want what I had before. As much as I love _that_ Alicia, I want who she is now because she's not the same woman she used to be. And I'm not the same man.

My cell phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts, but the sound of it has me excited.

Because it's Alicia.

"Hi," I whispered when I answered the phone.

"I'm home."

"You're inside?" I clarified because I have to make sure she's safe, behind locked doors.

"Yes, Peter," she said in amusement. "I locked the deadbolt. And I took off my jacket. And my shoes. And now I'm walking into the kitchen."

"The kitchen," I mused. "I think that's my new favorite room."

She laughed lightly and I smiled at the sound. She's got the greatest laugh.

"So what are you doing now?" I asked her.

"I'm debating having a glass of wine," she replied.

"Go for it. It's been quite a day."

"I think I will," she agreed and I could hear her opening the cabinet for a glass, and then the drawer as she reached for the corkscrew. "What are you doing?"

"I'm in bed."

"Oh. Yeah, it's late. I'll let you go."

"No, I'm good," I said quickly.

"It's after two," she pointed out. "You should get some sleep. I'm just going to drink my wine and go to bed."

"You honestly think I'm going to sleep after…well, you know…the kitchen?"

"It's called sex, Peter. You don't have to name it after the room," she said, once again chuckling softly.

"Well, I figured I'd give you the opportunity to pretend like it didn't happen."

"Is that what you think I want to do?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"I'm not sure, but if it _is_ what you want…"

"Then what? You'll let me get away with treating you like that?"

She's so smart and straight-forward. She wasn't always like this. And I don't mean she hasn't always been smart, but it's just that for years, it seemed like she only said things she thought I wanted to hear. Now she speaks from the heart and I love it.

"I think," I began carefully. "That…yes, I'll let you get away with it. And maybe I shouldn't, but if me being in this house is messing with your head and making you feel things that aren't there, then…I can understand it."

_Please don't let that be the case._

But she had a forty-five minute drive home during which time I'm sure she dissected her actions six ways to Sunday.

She let out a long sigh, but other than that was quiet for at least a minute and now I'm really worried about what she might say.

_You're right. It can't happen again._

Just the thought is distressing.

"I meant every word I said," she said at last, her voice now barely more than a whisper. "I've missed you. And I don't know what happens next but I do know that I want to spend more time with you so that we can find out if we can maybe make it work."

"Okay."

"And I don't regret…the _kitchen_," she said, once again reverting to a lighter tone. "Do you?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm ready to go back to the kitchen right now," I replied, and there it is again…that laugh.

"I bet you are," she said. "Well, maybe we can work something out."

I could hear a rustling sound as she was talking, so I had to ask, "What are you doing now?"

"Getting undressed," she answered and then to my surprise, she didn't stop there. "I just unzipped my pants, so now I'm sliding them down my hips, letting them fall to the floor so I can step out of them…"

Where did _this_ Alicia come from?

God, I don't know, but I love it.

Without conscious thought, I settled my hand on top of my growing erection as I mentally recalled the sight of her earlier tonight, wearing the navy blue lace panties. Of course, I only barely saw them before shoving them out of the way, but I_ did_ take notice.

"Should I keep going?" she asked.

"God, yes," I said immediately, and then so that she'll know I was paying attention, I said, "I like the dark blue, by the way."

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "Does that mean I should leave them on?"

"For now," I answered, and then I swallowed hard as it hit me that we're _really_ having phone sex. We've never done this before.

_Did she do this with Will?_

That thought came out of nowhere and I tried to force it aside because she's talking about unbuttoning her blouse and that's the image I want to have. Will Gardner has no right to be in my head – not now, not ever. I've already spent too much time thinking about him and Alicia. Not recently, but still…

"Okay," she said after a minute. "Now what?"

"You tell me," I suggested, my mind once again in the moment instead of off on an inexcusable tangent, because she had a _life_ after I threw our marriage away and I can't fault her for that.

"I don't know," she admitted self-consciously. "This is new for me, so…"

It's new for her.

Meaning that son of a bitch Will never got to share this experience with her.

_Good. _

"You want me to tell you what I'm doing?" I countered as I gripped myself a little more tightly.

"Yes."

And I could've said that I was pretending she was the one touching me.

I could've said I was imagining her in those sexy blue panties and bra.

But I didn't.

Instead I said the thought that was overriding both of those truths.

"I'm wishing like hell you were here in bed with me."

There was silence on the line for a moment and then she said softly, "I'm wishing the same thing."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

So if I'd pushed just a little, would she have stayed?

No, I _can't_ push. She's the one holding the cards right now.

"Yes," she admitted. "But you know why I had to leave."

"I know," I replied because I _do_ know.

There's too much at stake.

"And it's not just the kids…we're so good together physically that I have to make sure we stay caught up mentally, too, you know what I mean?"

"You're saying you don't want to just use me for my body?" I joked, even though I'm not feeling all that funny.

"I'm saying I don't want the incredible sex to mask whatever other lingering issues we may have. There have to be lines."

"I know," I agreed again. "So…should we talk?"

"While I'm nearly naked in bed and all I can think about is how it felt when you had me pinned against the pantry door?"

"Um…" I stumbled at her unexpected response.

"We'll talk," she stated, her voice low and husky. "But not right now."

"So you think the sex is incredible, huh?" I asked, unable to stop the smile as her earlier descriptive revisited my mind.

"Yes, but your phone sex is struggling," she retorted playfully. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

Ah, now see, that's an easy one because I can think of so many wonderfully sinful things I want to do to her.

So I spent nearly an hour doing just that.

It was after three when we finally said goodbye, and I don't know about her, but even at that late hour, I still wasn't ready to hang up. The sound of her voice in the darkness…if I closed my eyes it was so easy to pretend that she was right there with me.

But we did hang up and eventually I guess I drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, Grace was yelling at me through my closed bedroom door.

"Dad, are you okay? Dad?"

"Yeah," I called back. "Why, what's wrong?"

"It's eleven-thirty," she answered. "I made pancakes an hour ago. Are you sick or something?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. I'll be down in a minute."

I listened as she lingered briefly and then moved away, heading back downstairs.

Once she was gone, I stretched and then sat up in the bed, feeling…I don't know.

Something.

Young again, maybe.

And so energized by the possibilities.

_Alicia and I had sex_.

And then we had phone sex.

And more importantly, the lines of communication are open.

I haven't felt this good since…since…I don't know when. A long time ago, long before our marriage ended.

Because I took her for granted those last few years. I just assumed she would always be there.

And I arrogantly assumed I would never get caught.

And that's the thing…_now_ I don't want to be with anyone but her, even if there were a one hundred percent guarantee that she'd never find out. And I_ haven't_ been with anyone else, even though we've been separated for a while now.

I got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower before heading downstairs.

"Are you okay, Dad?" Zach asked me as soon as I entered the kitchen.

My gaze unintentionally strayed to the pantry door as I replied jokingly, "I'm fine. Jeez, can't a guy sleep in without getting the third degree?"

"You never sleep in," Grace pointed out.

"I was up late," I countered.

"You went to bed when we did," Zach said.

"I couldn't sleep," I explained with a grin, amused by their inquisition. "So where are these pancakes I was hearing about?"

Grace stared at me for a few seconds longer and then pulled out a plate from the microwave and set it on the table.

"I reheated them."

"Thanks. What time did you two get up?"

"Like _nine_," Grace said in melodramatic teenaged fashion. "We thought you'd want to get busy with the unpacking and all today."

"I do. We'll get started as soon as I eat."

"You might want to look at the rack on the pantry door, Dad," Zach said as he sat down in a chair across from me.

"Why?" I questioned, although I have a good feeling I know what he's about to say.

"It fell off. I don't know how. When I was putting stuff in there yesterday, it seemed pretty solid, but this morning, it was on the floor."

_Which means we were banging against that door hard enough to make the rack come loose…_

I can't stop the broad grin as I replied, "No problem, Zach. I'll take care of it. You and Grace can get started in the living room, okay? There are half a dozen boxes of books that need to be put on the shelves."

The three of us talked some more while I finished my late breakfast and then we got to work. It took us all afternoon to get things mostly organized.

During that time, I kept wanting to call Alicia, but I didn't. She'd mentioned having to work today, so I'm sure she's busy.

And I don't want to smother her. But I'm also curious as to how she feels about what happened last night.

Does she think differently, in the light of day?

I managed to hold off until after dinner. It was nearly nine o'clock and Zach and Grace were going through the pay-per-view movies, picking something for the three of us to watch tonight, so I offered to make the popcorn and while I was in the kitchen, I pulled out my cell phone.

"Come watch a movie with us," I entreated when she answered.

And I know she won't, but I want her to know that I want to see her.

"I wish I could," she answered, surprising me a little with her wistfulness. "I'm still working."

"Oh."

_With Will?_

The question was right on the tip of my tongue, but I have no business asking, so instead I didn't say anything at all.

"Not with Will," she said quietly, clearly knowing which direction my thoughts were going.

"I wasn't going to ask," I lied, and then I closed my eyes as the silence weighed heavily.

_I'm __**not**__ going to lie to her,_ I chastised myself. Not about big stuff, not about little stuff, not about anything.

"Okay, yes, I was," I admitted. "But then I realized that he's your boss, so if you're working with him then I can't say anything about it. And I can't say anything anyway because you don't owe me any kind of …"

"Peter," she interrupted, her voice still barely a whisper, which tells me there are probably other people nearby. "I'm not working with him."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

There was another pause and then I heard a door close.

"And I'm not sleeping with him," she added.

"But you were," I stated, the words coming out unbidden.

I guess this is one of those things we need to talk about. If we want to have a future together, we have to get it all out in the open.

"Yes," she said carefully.

And of course, I knew the answer to that question already. And not just because of jealous suspicions. I mean, I _knew_ the answer.

I read the grand jury testimony.

And I know – a no bill by the grand jury means the records are sealed, but hey…I'm the State's Attorney, so a sealed record doesn't necessarily apply to me.

So _of course_ I read it.

Which means I also know that she didn't start sleeping with him until after she kicked me out, and it ended a few months ago.

"But I'm not anymore," she clarified. "I never would've come over last night if I were."

"I know. And I have no right to be jealous. But I still am."

"Don't be," she asserted. Then I heard a knocking sound and she said, "I'm sorry, but I can't talk about this right now."

"Because you're upset with me for bringing up Will?"

"Because I'm working," she corrected and now she sounds like she's smiling.

She likes that I'm jealous? Or she likes that we're talking about real issues? Or…both?

"Okay," I replied. "You can call me later, if you want. After you get home."

"It'll be late."

"I don't mind."

I hung up the phone and pulled the popcorn out of the microwave.

_That conversation was so easy_, I thought. It only gets tough when we hide things and then let it fester. I need to tell her that I read her testimony. I can't let anything go unsaid.

It's funny because before, I used to keep things from her, thinking I was protecting her. Or because I didn't consider that it might be important to her.

There was a wall between us, even when the marriage was more or less working.

_But this time will be different, _I decided firmly.

Because I've changed. We _both _have.

And for this to work we need to be who we are _now_ rather than simply trying to recapture what we had before.

"Dad, are you coming?" Grace called to me from the other room.

"On my way. What are we watching?"

_Zombieland._

It wouldn't have been my first choice. Or even in the top fifty. But it was entertaining, even if it might not exactly be appropriate for Grace.

"Good movie, huh, Dad?" Zach asked as the credits rolled.

"I don't know. I think they could've stuck the f-word in there a few more times."

"We're not little kids, Dad," Grace said with a roll of her eyes. "We've heard the f-word before."

"And your mother lets you watch movies like that?"

"Well, um…she…um…"

"That's what I thought," I said with a wry smile. "Off to bed. The least I can do is tell her you got a good night's sleep while you're with me."

I hugged them both, enjoying the moment because I'll be taking them back home tomorrow, and the house is going to feel so empty once I'm here alone.

I piddled around downstairs for a while longer and then went up to bed. I took my cell phone with me, just in case Alicia decides to call, and just as I got under the covers, my phone started buzzing.

"Are you home?" I asked when I answered the call, and in the back of my mind, I realized that I'm hoping she's _no_t at home.

I'm hoping she's on her way to Highland Park.

"Just," she answered. "What a long day. Especially after only getting a few hours of sleep."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No you're not," she said in amusement. "But that's okay because I'm not either."

"I let the kids watch _Zombieland_," I said immediately, wanting to get that out of the way. I don't think it was all that bad, but I want to make sure that she and I are on the same page.

"Was it bad?"

"I lost count of how many times they said fuck. And there were some sexual references. And violence. But it's fine because Grace assured me she's heard the f-word before."

She was chuckling by the time I finished my confession, which is why I added that last bit about Grace's remark.

"Not from me, she hasn't," she said. "But yeah, it's fine. Thanks for telling me."

_Full disclosure_, I reminded myself. Easier said than done and yet…vital.

"There's something else I want to tell you, too."

"Oh?" she questioned and in that single syllable I can hear her concern, so I decided to just get it out there quickly.

"I read the grand jury testimony. From Will."

She was quiet for so long that I almost thought she hung up on me, but then she said, "Why?"

She's giving me an out.

I could've read it to decide whether or not to pursue it further.

Or…for other, more personal reasons.

"Once I heard Wendy subpoenaed you, I knew what tack she was going to take. I would've stopped it if I could, but by that point, it was out of my hands."

"So you were curious," she said carefully and I have no way of gauging whether or not she's angry with me.

"Yes."

"And did you find out what you wanted to know?"

Okay, so now I think I can tell. She's pissed.

"I know I had no right to do that. Or I mean, I did but not for the reason why I did it. I just…it was killing me, thinking about you and him. I had to know."

"You could've asked me."

"And you would've told me?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know," she admitted on a sigh. "Probably not. Or at least not then."

"You would've been right not to tell me. It's not any of my business. I gave up the right to make it my business back when I…well, when…"

"I understand why you read it."

"You do?" I questioned in surprise. So she's _not _mad?

"I thought that you might look it over. I was relieved when the no-bill came back because then it would stay sealed which means the kids will never see it, but you…I had a feeling you'd see it either way. And I don't blame you. I would've done the same thing."

We both fell silent again and then I heard her yawn and I was reminded that while I managed to sleep until nearly noon after our pre-dawn phone sex, she still had to get up and go to work.

"I should let you go. You're tired," I said.

"I am," she agreed.

"Okay, so…"

"This talking," she interrupted. "It's good. I don't want you censoring what you say based on my anticipated reaction. And this thing with you reading the testimony…I know it was hard for you to admit. It would've been an easy secret to keep. Thank you for being honest."

"It's the new me."

"I think I like the new you. It's the old you, only better."

"I'm trying."

"I know you are," she said softly. "What time are you bringing the kids back tomorrow?"

"Whatever works best for you."

"Make it seven and you can stay for dinner," she posed. "I'll cook."

We hung up a few minutes later and now I have something else to look forward to.

Dinner tomorrow night, as a family.

And more time spent with Alicia.

I woke up at a decent hour on Sunday and after breakfast, I got busy finishing up the house while the kids did homework.

My mind wandered while I worked, thinking about the conversation with Alicia last night and how even though I'd kind of expected a repeat of the phone sex, I wasn't disappointed with the fact that we only talked.

I also pondered different scenarios for how to get her alone tonight, even for only a few minutes, because as much as I love my kids, I'm also feeling the desperate need to kiss their mother.

The day passed quickly and at six o'clock, the kids gathered their things and we went out to the car.

"So are you staying for dinner?" Grace asked me as I backed out of the driveway.

"Yes. Is that okay?"

"I don't know why you don't eat with us more often."

"Yeah, it's not like it has to mean anything," Zach added. "It's food."

"Which is why I'm staying for dinner," I said pointedly.

"Is that why you're wearing cologne?" Grace asked and I looked in the rearview mirror to see her smirking at me.

"I always wear cologne. And didn't we just say that dinner doesn't mean anything?" I replied.

And maybe I do always wear cologne, but it's not often that I reapply it late in the afternoon.

And I shaved again, too, which I'm glad Grace didn't comment on because I'm not sure what I would've said considering I only did it in an attempt to look nice for Alicia.

It's also why I chose this particular shirt. I don't know if her opinion's changed, but Alicia used to love me in blue, so I'm wearing a slate-blue polo.

An hour later, we rode the elevator up to the ninth floor, and I don't know why, but I'm nervous.

It's almost like a date, and yet it isn't because it's just dinner.

My inclination was to knock. I mean, it's been a long time since I lived here, and even then things were iffy. But of course, Zach just opened the door and went inside, followed immediately by Grace. I lingered in the doorway as the kids called out.

"Mom! We're home!"

"In the kitchen," she answered.

"Dad, are you coming?" Grace asked when she realized I was still standing in the doorway.

I closed the door and slowly ventured inside, heading towards the kitchen as I listened to the sounds of Alicia making over the kids and asking them about their weekend.

I paused at the threshold of the kitchen and for a minute, I just looked. Because Alicia looks _so _beautiful. And I can't swear to it, but I find it hard to believe that she looked _this _good all day while puttering around the apartment. Which means…she made the effort to look nice for_ me_? The thought is humbling and exciting.

She caught sight of me and a smile played on her lips and all I can think about is _what was I thinking to ever let this woman get away?_ How could I have been so stupid to screw up so colossally?

If I get a second chance with her, I'll never, ever disappoint her again.

"Go put your stuff in your rooms and wash up for dinner," she said to the kids. "It'll be ready in ten minutes."

"Can I help?" I asked once we were alone, with me on one side of the island counter and her on the other.

The last time we were in this same position, we were arguing.

About Will.

But I'm not going to think about him tonight.

Because her affair with him is over.

_I'm_ the one who's here with her now. And from here on out, if I have anything to say about it.

Alicia shook her head, declining my offer for assistance, and then she handed me a glass of wine as she said, "You look good. I like the blue."

"I was hoping you'd still like it."

"You wore it for me?" she asked, reaching out to run her hand down the front of my shirt.

I shrugged self-consciously and said, "You cooked. The least I can do is look presentable."

"You look…very, very handsome," she said in a hushed voice. She eased around the end of the counter, coming to stand next to me, and then her gaze shifted briefly to the other room, presumably to check on the location of the kids.

And then she kissed me.

It was light and chaste and all-too-brief, but it was also stimulating and promising and I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her more thoroughly.

But I didn't.

Instead I stood still as she took a step back from me and then smiled as she reached up, using her thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corner of my mouth. A very intimate gesture that affected me nearly as much as the kiss.

"Probably wasn't very smart of me to put on lipstick if we're going to try to get away with kissing on the sly."

"Are we?" I questioned with a smile.

"I hope so."

A timer went off, so she moved back around to the other side of the counter where she snagged a potholder and then pulled a dish from the oven, and by that point, the kids were back in the kitchen, so for the time being, further kissing would have to be put on hold.

But even without any kissing, dinner was really nice. It's been too long since the four of us sat down together, especially without there being any awkward undertones of discontent, and I was once again hit by the feeling of tremendous regret over what I did to this family.

And yet they've all forgiven me.

Which makes me even more determined to never hurt any of them again.

I left the apartment at nine-thirty, not because I wanted to go but just because it was time.

"You're going home?" Alicia asked me as she walked me to the door. I already said goodbye to the kids and then she'd sent them to their rooms with the instruction of laying out their clothes for the school day tomorrow.

"_Since when do we lay out our clothes the night before?" _Zach had questioned.

"_Since now. Go,"_ she said firmly.

I like that she seems to want another minute alone with me.

"I'm going to run by the office for a little while," I said in answer to her question. "I'll try to clean out my inbox so that I can hit the ground running tomorrow."

"Smart," she agreed with a nod. She opened the door and then we both stepped out into the hall and she pulled the door mostly closed behind us. "Call me when you get home?"

"It'll be late," I warned, smiling as I said the words since it seems to be our standard disclaimer.

"I don't mind," she answered, returning my smile. "I've actually got some work to do, too. I'm preparing a brief for tomorrow and it's…lacking. I might be up for a while yet."

"Okay. Then I'll definitely call."

We stood there staring at each other and it's back to feeling like a date again…a first date when I'm not sure if a goodnight kiss is on the table and yet I want it so badly that I can't think of anything else.

"Mom!" I heard Grace shout from inside the apartment. "Zach took my cell phone and he won't give it back!"

"She took a picture of me and won't delete it!" Zach explained.

Alicia closed her eyes, chuckling as she shook her head.

"I guess I need to go referee."

"Want me to go in and knock some heads?"

"No, it's…"

"Mom!" Grace yelled, now sounding borderline hysterical.

"In a minute!" Alicia shouted back. Then she flashed me an apologetic smile as she reached for the door knob, but at the last second, she stopped and turned back around, pausing briefly as she looked into my eyes and then she moved her hands up to my cheeks as she brought her lips to mine.

It was the kind of kiss that made me want to strip her down and have her right out here in the hallway.

Enthusiastic, skillful, provocative…salacious and sinful.

It ended much too soon for my liking, but I could hear the kids' growing argument and I can just imagine that any minute one of them will whip open the door in an effort to throw the other one under the bus.

"You need to go," I said with no small amount of regret. "But I'll call you later."

"You'd better."

So I went to work, where I spent nearly two hours going through the one hundred plus new emails.

Everyone wants a piece of a gubernatorial candidate. Sometimes I wonder why I want this job, but deep down I know the answer to that.

Because I think I can do it well.

I think I can be good for this state.

And the fact that Alicia supports me in this endeavor – that means everything to me. Not just because I won't win without her but because it means she believes in me.

And after everything I put her through, she's still always supported my political aspirations.

What does that say about her?

Something.

She's not vindictive or vengeful. As angry as she's been at me, as her husband, she never took it out on me, the politician.

After making a considerable dent in the email correspondence, I left the office and went back to my car.

It's after eleven, but I still pulled out my cell phone.

"You're home?" she answered, and her voice sounds thick with sleep.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Sort of, but not really. I'm proof-reading this brief, so I'm not supposed to be sleeping. I should actually thank you for calling because I really need to make sure this gets done before tomorrow morning."

"Are you close?"

"I think so."

"Can I help?"

"With the brief?" she asked in amusement. "That's probably not a good idea."

"I could rub your shoulders while you read," I offered.

"Peter, where are you?"

"I'm still in the city. I just left the office a few minutes ago."

"Oh," she answered and I held my breath while I waited to hear what she might say next. "Then…yeah. Come over."

Ten minutes later, I got off the elevator and found her waiting for me in the doorway.

She's wearing a fuzzy bathrobe and her face has been scrubbed clean and she looks every bit as beautiful as she did when I was here earlier.

"You have to be quiet," she whispered as I approached the door. "And don't look so smug. You're here to rub my shoulders, and that's it."

"I'll put my hands anywhere you want them," I murmured as I slipped past her into the apartment. She locked the door and then moved ahead of me, looking towards the kids' bedrooms, and then she gestured for me to follow her into her bedroom.

The room was mostly dark except for a lamp that was glowing softly near a chair in the corner.

"No wonder you were falling asleep," I commented as she closed the door behind us.

"Thousand-watt bulbs wouldn't make this brief less boring," she replied with a smile as she clicked on the overhead light. "But I'll give it another go, since you made such a generous offer. Take off your shoes."

I'm not about to argue with anything. I'm still a little surprised that she invited me here and the spark of hope I've been feeling all weekend is turning into a flame.

I toed off my shoes and then looked over at her as she unknotted the belt on her robe, pulling off the well-worn garment to reveal what she's wearing underneath.

A black silk nightgown, one that stops about mid-thigh.

As I stood watching her, she picked up the brief she'd left lying in the vacated chair and then she walked over to the bed and laid down on her stomach, sideways across the bed.

She propped herself up on her forearms and opened to the first page of the brief before glancing over her shoulder at me, raising an eyebrow in question.

As if I need her to be any clearer.

I immediately got onto the bed, not straddling her as I would've liked, but on my knees next to her, and then I began massaging her shoulders. I worked in silence, moving my hands over the tight muscles while she read, and after spending a few minutes on her shoulders, I moved down her back.

I'd like to say I kept my gaze focused on the area I was presently massaging, but my eyes kept straying down to her legs, which are long and undoubtedly smooth and are almost completely uncovered, since her position has the nightgown just barely covering her butt. As my hands move over her back, I notice the material shifts, altering the height of the hemline - up and down, up and down - and I can't stop looking at her upper thighs.

"That feels so good," she said, practically moaning the words, and if I weren't already hard, that sound would've done it, but come on…I'm on her bed with her and she's wearing just a little bit of nothing…I've been locked and cocked since we got started.

But still…the sound was especially erotic.

"You're killing me," I said, my own voice sounding husky and strained.

"I'm almost done. You can…go lower, if you want."

_Oh, I want._

I slid my hands down the small of her back and over the curve of her butt, working the muscle there for a minute and then continuing down to her thighs.

As I took one leg in both hands, massaging both the outer and inner part of her thigh, she sighed contentedly, shifting her legs apart just slightly but enough to be encouraging, so I ran my hands back up beneath the silk, feeling the softness of her backside as I pushed the nightgown up and out of the way, leaving her lower half wearing nothing but black thong underwear.

With the incredible view in front of me, I went back to work, wanting to be thorough in my efforts to make her feel relaxed. I spent time on each leg and then moved down to her feet, loving the sounds I elicited as I worked my thumbs over the arches.

And then I made my way back up, sliding my hands up her legs and over her butt, and then I eased over top of her so that I was straddling her as I continued massaging back up to her shoulders and neck.

"You're really _really_ good at that," she said on a sigh, and as I leaned forward to kiss along the side of her neck, I saw that her eyes were closed.

"You can't read with your eyes closed," I pointed out in amusement.

"Oh, I'm done," she said, still not opening her eyes, but now smiling broadly. "I finished when you were working on my feet, but I wasn't about to stop you."

"Taking advantage of me, huh?" I replied playfully, moving her hair out of the way to give me better access to her neck.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind."

And then she opened her eyes, locking those mossy green eyes onto mine, and I faltered briefly, just from the intensity and emotion in her gaze.

She really _does _still love me.

I have no idea how or why, but she does and I'm not about to blow it this time.

"I offered to put my hands anywhere, remember?" I replied.

She let the brief fall to the floor and then I shifted off to one side so that she could turn over onto her back.

"Then touch me," she encouraged, so I eased over top of her again, but suddenly my sense of urgency was gone.

Friday night, we had sex. Frantic, gratifying, amazingly good sex.

Tonight, I want to make love with her. Something we haven't done in _such_ a long time.

So I took my time, peeling the nightgown from her body and then touching and tasting her everywhere. She laid back and let me take control and before long I had her restless and begging for release, so I finally pushed into her, deliberately and confidently, and she let out a moan that very nearly pushed me over the edge.

"_Oh, God, Peter…I love you."_

That's what she said.

And I know, the words were said in the heat of the moment, but still…

I managed to stave off my imminent orgasm, wanting to savor the moment as long as possible, and I brought my lips to hers, kissing her leisurely as I maintained a slow, drawn-out rhythm.

She ran her fingers down my back and then back up again, sliding them into my hair as I broke off the kiss and instead rested my forehead against the bed as I struggled to last just one more minute.

I think I might've made it three or four more minutes, but I'm not sure, and then I bit my lip in an effort to not make a sound as I finally reached my breaking point.

And just like Friday night, my first post-release thought was that I don't want it to be over.

I wish I had the staying power to last for hours because then she wouldn't leave.

Although I guess it'll be me who has to leave tonight.

But I can't be greedy. Tonight was already so much more than I dared to hope for.

Neither of us moved for several minutes and then I finally gathered my strength and started to pull away.

"Don't go yet," she said softly.

"Okay," I agreed as I settled against her again.

"This was so…"

She trailed off without finishing the sentence, but I know what she means.

It wasn't like old times.

It was better.

And now that my mind is right, I want to tell her that I love her, too, but now I'm afraid she might regret having said it.

But then again, I know_ I_ won't regret saying it.

I turned my face towards hers, my lips resting next to her ear, and I said, "I know we still don't know where this is going, but…wherever we end up, there's one thing you can always know for sure…I love you."

She didn't respond verbally, but she did wrap her arms around me a little more tightly as she sighed pleasurably and then kissed my shoulder.

My next conscious thought was that a fire alarm was going off.

My eyes flew open and there was sunlight streaming into the room. We're still wrapped in each other's arms, sideways across the bed on top of the covers.

And the alarm clock is sounding.

"Shit," Alicia muttered as she slipped from my embrace and got up to turn off the alarm. Then as she became more awake, she repeated it several more times. "Shit, shit, shit! The kids will be up any minute."

And as she made the statement, I heard Grace's voice in the hall, saying something to Zach.

"What do we do?" I asked, sitting up in the bed and watching her as she hurried over to her robe and picked it up.

"Stay in here," she said decisively as she put on the robe. "I'll get them off to school, and then you can go."

"You know, we _are_ married," I pointed out. I got up and walked over to her, taking hold of the robe's belt and tying it for her.

"I know, but Peter…"

"I know," I said, because again, I _do_ know. There's no sense at all in getting the kids' hopes up because what if I somehow screw it up again?

She nodded and started to move past me, but I kept hold of her belt until she looked up at me.

"Relax. It'll be fine. They'll never know I'm here."

She exhaled heavily and then smiled, so I took a moment just to kiss her, and then I told her, "I slept better last night than I have in years."

She leaned into me and kissed me back, and then said, "Me, too."

And then she slipped out of the room.

I got dressed in last night's clothes and retrieved the all-important brief from the floor and then sat back in the chair and listened to the sounds of the kids getting ready for school.

It took them nearly forty-five minutes to get ready, but they finally said their goodbyes and after another minute, Alicia opened the bedroom door.

"I'm going to be so late," she remarked as she shed the robe and headed for the bathroom.

I followed her, appreciating the long, lean lines of her body and her lack of self-consciousness, being naked in front of me.

"You could be later," I suggested, wrapping my arms around her from behind as she reached in to turn on the shower.

"It's already almost eight."

"I know. I'm going to be late, too."

"Peter…"

I backed off, not wanting to push the issue because her work is still a gray area for us. Or rather, not the work itself, but who's _at_ work.

She got into the shower, so I moved towards the doorway, planning to go back into the bedroom, but then I heard the shower door open again.

"Oh, what the hell," she said with a smile as she held the door open invitingly. "Get in."

The End


End file.
